Glad You Came
by ImaginaryPoet
Summary: Quinn's accident has torn a hole in the space-time continuum.  She finds herself back in sophomore year, pre-pregnancy, pre-chaos, pre-Finchel.  Will she use her knowledge of the future to finally make things right? M for language
1. Chapter 1

**Glad You Came****  
>By Imaginary Poet<strong>

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Quinn's accident has torn a hole in the space-time continuum. She finds herself back in sophomore year, pre-pregnancy, pre-chaos, pre-Finchel. Will she use her knowledge of the future to finally make things right?

**Pairings: **Eventual Faberry and essentially every canon ship, though not as you might think (given that Quinn is changing the world and such).

**A/N: **I'd like to say first, thank you for reading. I know many of you are randoms from Tumblr or new fans who have faith in me. Thank you for that; I hope to make you proud. Please feel free to review and leave me feedback. If you'd like to contact me for any reason, please do. Second, I own absolutely nothing. Last and most importantly, please, please, please, do **NOT **ever text while driving! I lost two friends to this totally avoidable situation. If it's urgent, pull over. Your life matters more than your one word response.

**Note: **Additionally, teen suicide is a very real and very unfortunate. More than this, it is very preventable. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts/feelings tell someone. Get the help that you _**DESERVE**_. Please know that it does get better, so very, very much better, the longer you live.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_Smash. Broken glass chimes and warped metal slides on pavement. On my way, don't start; I'm on the way. I need to get there soon, but I can't move. Sirens sound like they're getting closer. What's happening? Why is everything going black?  
><em> I wake with a gasp. 'What a weird dream,' I think. Not feeling like sleeping anymore anyway, I look at my alarm clock. It's already 5:28 in the morning, so I might as well get up now. Cheerios practice is at 7 and if I am going to prove to Sylvester that she made the best decision by taking me back, I'll have to look my best.

I'm in the shower when I notice something bizarre. My hair feels a lot longer than it did yesterday. Besides that, I think that I'm down a few stretch marks. Having been an overweight preteen and a pregnant teen, I wasn't able to escape them completely, though today I seem to be looking better than I have in a long time. Maybe today will be special after all.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," my mother calls from the kitchen as she hears me come down the stairs.

"Morning Mom. You wouldn't believe how well my uniform looked on me when I put it on today! It was like I was never even preg-," I stop midword as I notice something that _definitely _doesn't belong here.

"Morning Dear," the intruder says.

"What's he doing here?"  
>"I never go into work before breakfast, Honey," he says as if I am the crazy one here.<p>

"You don't live here," I say bluntly. The two of them look at me as though I'm completely and utterly insane and for a moment I think that I might be.

"What in the world are you talking about?" My mother asks, "Of course your father lives here, Quinnie, it's his home," as she places a plate of breakfast in front of him like he hasn't been gone for almost a year.

"That's not…you left him! After he kicked me out of the house for being pregnant you left him! He was cheating on you with some woman from Lima Tattoos and Piercings!"

"Honey, I have no idea what you're talking about! Did you have a nightmare? I think I would have known if my own daughter had been pregnant!"

'What the hell, Mom?' I can't help but think.

"You're barely 16 Lucy, so you had better bet on your behind that such abominations would not be tolerated under my roof! Are you messing around with that Hudson boy because if you are I promise you that instead of Cheerios practice, you'll be meeting with Pastor Dan and he'll tell you all about chastity and the sin of promiscuity!"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked. I don't know who he thinks he is, but busting in here after all this time, not even knowing that I'm 18, and condemning me, not to mention insinuating that I ever did _anything_ with Finn really makes me mad.

"Who do you think you are?" I scold, "You know you were messing around with that tramp, Jamboree, long before I even let Puckerman knock me up! I don't know why you're back but I know Mom and I were doing fine until you came back!"

"You know what Lucy? I'm not sure what you think you're talking about but you need to learn to mind you own damn business! You can say goodbye to that shiny new red Beetle in the driveway, because you're grounded from it until you show me some respect!"

"Russell, wait, maybe it's temporary insanity? Quinnie, Honey, have you been…have you been experimenting with self abuse?" My mother says, whispering out the last part, "I read that those who do that can go mad because it's unnatural."

"You think I'm crazy? You think I'm crazy from MASTURBATION?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.

"Lucy Quinn! Don't say that word!" She chides with a blush.

"Ask him about Jamboree, Mom! Puck said he saw them downtown a while after you left him. Santana saw the two of them at Breadstix once and she threatened that if he ever hurt me again, they'd find pieces of him in all fifty states. She has a bar that goes straight through the bridge of her nose! Even Brittany said she was a weirdo."

"That is enough!" My father yells.

"Is this true?" My mother asks in the most hurt voice I think I've ever heard.

"It's not what you think Judy," he says, "she's not serious. She's just for fun."

"Oh, well in that case…"

"No, Mom! You're done taking crap from him! You promised when I moved back in that he wouldn't get to destroy us ever again. If you can't stand up for yourself then I will."

I turn my body towards him and threaten, "You need to leave. You have hurt our family more than enough times. I don't understand what is going on with you two this morning, but I know that we are so much better off without you. You will _never_ make my mother feel helpless again. You will _never_ turn your back on me again. You will _never_ desecrate the name of God again by preaching your hate and ignorance as religion. You will _never_ see us again."

I reuse to back down and I can see that for the first time, he's afraid of me. He looks at me hard for a while, and I look harder. Finally he stands and looks at my mother.

"Is this really what you want Judy? To be the laughing stock of Church and book club and your women's social group? Because you let some smart ass little girl tell your husband to leave his own home?"

"You made me a laughing stock the moment you decided that your adulterous affair was worth more to you than your family. You need to leave. I am done with you."

He looked at me again, letting me see all the hate in his eyes, a look usually reserved for people like Rachel's dads, or the single mothers at the grocery store,

"I hope you're happy Lucy. You've just changed your entire life. How does it feel knowing that you're responsible for the ruin of this family?"

"I feel fantastic," I respond, smiling at my mother and heading out to my bug.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, as always reviews and alerts are much appreciated!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Glad You Came**

**By: ImaginaryPoet**

**A/N:**Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing and being altogether wonderful. I absolutely cannot believe how many of you read and responded and alerted the first chapter! I am so grateful to each and every one of you! I've pushed up the date of update to today as my thanks.

I still own nothing. It still makes me sad.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

This morning has already started out on a weird foot. Cheerios practice went off without a hitch, though it felt really strange. Everyone seemed to be afraid of me and Coach didn't make one crack about my pregnancy. As I am finishing my last lap, I notice that Brittany and Santana aren't running together, as they usually do, and I wonder if maybe they've been fighting.

"Alright losers, practice is over, but only because the school board says you have to attend classes. If it were up to me all of you lazy trolls would practice until your bodies lost the ability to do anything but cheer. Also, Will Schuester's hair disgusts me."

As I gather my things, she calls to me,

"Hey Q, my office after school. We need to discuss some things."

"Sure Coach," I say, and she walks away.

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><p>As I walk to my locker after cleaning myself up, I see that things around the school look way different. People I thought had been graduated for years were suddenly in the hallway, present as ever. I glance around once more and I see something truly unbelievable.<p>

Down the hall stands Rachel Berry, in front of some bulletin board. She's wearing one of her terrible skirt and animal sweater combos that she swore to me she no longer owned and she has absolutely no idea how hideous it is. Only Rachel would think this acceptable, though it might be because only Rachel could pull something like this off. Out of all my friends, I think she's the prettiest and she'd probably be adorable in a potato sack.

As I approach, I see her sign her name to the paper on the board and place a gold star next to it.

"I see some things never change," I laugh as she immediately looks around self-consciously.

"Quinn, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning? Have you come up with a new insult to my womanhood? One that implies that I have male genitalia and excessive body hair, perhaps?"

"What? No. Just wanted to say hey before class. What did you sign up for?"

She looks at me suspiciously before she says,

"You're probably aware that Mr. Ryerson was recently fired and Mr. Schuester is taking his place as the director of the Glee Club. Auditions are this afternoon and naturally, I have added my name to the list."

I notice that her left hand is delightfully ring-free. Not that I care what she wears on it or not, but I am happy that she is still considering her Broadway dreams. After my nightmare,

I can't imagine her marrying Finn so suddenly.

"And your metaphorical gold star? That's great Rach. I'm happy seeing you staying so focused. Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

"Yes," she says warily as she digs in her backpack, "they are a metaphor… How did you know that?"

She hands me the pen.

"Well, gee Rach, I've only known you for the past three years. Why is he holding auditions anyway? Doesn't he know what he's working with anyway?"

I sign my name below hers and she stares at me with the same confusion my mother did this morning.

"Why did you sign up? Are you trying to sabotage my life? I don't ask for much sympathy from you Quinn, but you should know that no matter what you're plotting, I was born to be a Broadway star and nothing is going to stop me."

I hand her back the pen and try to understand what she just said to me.

"Rachel, I don't know what you think I'm planning, but I'm more than content to sway in the background. You, Mercedes, Kurt and Santana can fight over all of the solos you want. I promise I'm not interested."

"SANTANA?" she asks, "Why would she be joining the Glee Club? What are you trying to do to me?"

I am totally not understanding her at all this morning.

"I'm not sure what's going on with you today. You're my friend. You're even Santana's friend, whether she'll openly admit it or not. We're not out to hurt you. I'm going to my locker now. I'll see you later," I say, as she looks at me in complete puzzlement.

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><p>"Hey Hot Mama," Puck says as he slides up to my locker.<p>

"What do you want, Puck?" I ask him with a laugh.

"It's about what you want, Babe."

"And what's that?"

"A piece of the Puckasaurus!"

I laugh.

"Sorry, Puck, but last time that happened was more than enough for me."

"What are you talking about? You've never given me any!"

"Never given you any? What do you call the nine months of torture and the recent bout of psychosis?"

"What?" He looks so lost that I can't believe it.

"Beth," I say.

"Who's Beth?"

Before I can call him out on his ridiculousness, none other than Finn Hudson walks toward us.

"You have got to be kidding me," I say.

"See, why are you with him? He's my bro and all but I know you're not into him. You're all up on the Puck."

"Puckerman, if you only knew what I was into," I blab and immediately try to change the subject, "Furthermore, what the hell did you just say?"

"Hey guys!" Finn says as he puts an awkwardly long arm over my shoulder, "Hey Babe."

I am so creeped out.

"I hope you're talking to Puck."

"Uh, no?" The lumbering quarterback says, "I have to go talk to Coach about Friday's game. See you at four for the club right?"

"Oh, yeah," I say. At least someone can be normal about Glee.

"So, back to this Beth chick," Puck says, "who is she and is she hot?"

"Are you seriously asking me if our _daughter_ is hot?"

"Daughter?" he asks, "I'm thinking you got dropped from the top of the pyramid at Cheerios practice this morning, Babe. Puck ain't nobody's papa."

"But you and I are-"

"No, you know what, Quinn? Finn's my boy. It wouldn't be right to hook up with his woman, even if you are fine as hell. The crazy just isn't worth it."

He walks away shaking his head and I have no idea what just happened, nor what is happening today. I try to seek refuge in something, anything that could explain to me what is going on when Jewfro appears with his camera crew. This is exactly what I was hoping wouldn't happen.

"Quinn Fabray, sexy and sophisticated Head Cheerio, what do you think of the recent Glee club controversy?"

I take a deep breath and try to collect my words,

"I'd like to say that while I still think it is a mistake, I wish nothing but happiness for Rachel and Finn," I half-lie. I do wish Rachel happiness because she's kind of my new best friend.

I just know it will never be with Finn.

"Wait. You mean Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson?"

"Um, yes? Whom else would I be referring to?"

Sometimes he is such a dense guy. Maybe it's all the hair blocking his brain.

"This just in, McKinley, the prospective leads for Mr. Schuester's new glee club are the beautiful Rachel Berry and the hulking Finn Hudson. You heard it here first, straight from the mouth of Quinn Fabray, girlfriend of one of the said leads!"

What did he just call me? Why would he think that Rachel was my girlfriend?

"Excuse me?" I yell.

"You and Finn are still McKinley High power couple, no?"

"Yuck, Jewfro, that was so 2010."

"Is that a new thing, saying that the future is the past? Somebody write down that trend!"

"Uh, no. The _past_ is the past. As in, we've been broken up since before Nationals last year, 2011."

"It's only 2009," he says plainly.

"Are you mental?" I ask. This guy must be joking, "Besides, Finn is currently engaged to Rachel, which I'm sure you know. Creep."

"NO WAY!" he shouts and then runs down the hall to where ever it is he goes during the day. His crew follows and I am still standing in the hallway completely out of explanation for what the hell could possibly be up.

'How could that fur ball believe it was still 2009?' I think, 'Doesn't he keep up with all the latest gossip at school?'

"Quinn!" someone down the hall calls to me, "Forget after school, I need to speak to you now."

"Coach, right now is not a good time."

" I know what's going on, Q. You and I are the only ones who do," she says.

I follow her to her office and wonder what the hell must have happened to us last night.

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><p><strong>AN: There was Chapter 2! Much love for those of you who have read! More to come soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Glad You Came**

**By: ImaginaryPoet**

**A/N:** YOU GUYS! I am FREAKING OUT! I've gotten so many reviews and follows for this story already that I can't even believe it. I am so very, very, very humbled and appreciative to you for such a warm response. Writing something that people can identify with and follow closely is the one thing I've always wanted to do. Thanks to each and every one of you for allowing me to realize the smallest part of that dream. I think this chapter is just a wee bit short, so I'm sorry, but I'll update it soon!  
>I'm also digging all of your opinions so far on Quinn's obliviousness to her situation. No, I don't think Quinn is stupid at all. I find her to be one of the most interesting and deep (not to mention under utilized) characters on the show. Her inability to recognize that she's been thrust into the past is not her being dense. She's a human. I think that if this were to happen to any of us, we wouldn't automatically conclude that we've been sent to the past without explanation. I'm sure we'd just assume that everyone else is on to something strange that we haven't yet discovered. The first two chapters were really setting the scene. Please realize that chapter two was meant to take place in a matter of 10-15 minutes. Do you think you could figure it out so quickly? I'm not sure that I would have at her age. I'm glad that I haven't lost any of you yet, as this is where the story really begins to flourish.<br>I also like that many of you are concerned with whether or not Quinn will purposefully prevent her pregnancy. When developing the story, I spent a lot of time thinking that over and all I will say is that you will perhaps be surprised, relieved, or indifferent. I urge you all to keep in mind from now on that this is _**NOT**_ Quinn's natural time. Surprises are to come and some, if not all, will surely be things you never saw coming. That said, I really love all of your ideas and feedback!  
><strong>Legal: <strong>I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

"What is the matter with everyone Coach?" I frantically ask.

"It's not everyone that's messed up, Q, just us."

I raise an eyebrow at her and she continues,

"You were in a car accident last night, Quinn. You were on the way to Rachel and Finn's wedding and you blew a stop sign. A truck hit you on the driver's side. Your car was totaled and even the Jaws of Life had trouble separating you from the wreckage. The paramedics weren't able to tell if you could be saved or not. They flew you to Cleveland for emergency surgery, but the doctors couldn't promise that you'd survive being on the table."

She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. This is something she's done only a handful of times, so despite her usual treachery and mind games, I believe that she's right. After all, I did have that nightmare. She keeps speaking while my mind tries to put together everything that's happened.

"How…how does that explain why I'm here?" I ask.

"You've been given a do-over."

"A what?"

"A repeat. In our time, you might not be alive anymore. You're obviously supposed to be alive in the future," she says as if I am supposed to understand her mystifying logic.

"In the future?"

"You weren't supposed to die. You've been given another chance. How many times do I have to tell you this?" She asks with annoyance.

"What are you saying? Do you honestly expect me to believe that through some freakish cosmic I-don't-know-what, I'm alive when I shouldn't be? No way," I refute as I get myself up and ready to leave.

"It's more complicated than that, Quinn," Coach Sylvester warns, "Your accident ripped a massive hole in the space time continuum. As a result, we've been transported back through time to the year that started the sequence of events that led to your accident and possible untimely demise."

"Which means what?"

"You can save yourself from your death. You can save your friends from all of their idiotic entanglements and they'd never know you changed a thing. They'd think it was how it was meant to be. You can ensure that every regret you have can be eradicated because they're gone," she explains.

'Holy crap,' I think, 'it really _is_ 2009?'

"How do you know all of this then? Shouldn't you only have your memories from up to 2009?"

She laughs at me, "Oh, Q, I knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. I had my mind dimension proofed back in '83."

Of course she did.

"Why are you helping me?" I wonder out loud.

"You might be dead in the future, Quinn. I know that I don't always or usually show it, but I care about you. I don't want to see your life end when I know it was just beginning for you."

"Thank you, Coach," I say sincerely.

"Alright, enough estrogen! You have wrongs to right and I have people to criticize, blackmail, and belittle. Good luck, Q," she says while closing her office door in my face.

"Oh, by the way," she adds, sticking her head through a crack in the door, "step one involves staying away from Puckerman and his Little Puckerman!"

"Already took care of it, Coach," I reply.

She nods and closes the door again.

Now I'm left to question myself. 'Of all the things I didn't do right, which needs to be fixed first?'

I find my answer almost immediately as a brunette covered in blue slushie rushes by me.

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><p>"Rachel?" I call out into the bathroom.<p>

"What do you want, Quinn? Santana has already given me the 'Cheerio Greeting' this morning," she says as she wipes her eyes with a towel.

"I am so sorry, Rachel," I say truthfully, and she turns from the mirror she has been looking into and looks right through me.

"I wish I could believe you," she responds, "but I know it's just another one of your jokes."

"It isn't," I tell her, "this isn't a joke. I know I've been unkind to you in the past and I'm sorry about that. I'm finished with that. I know it sounds weird," I say, remembering that she doesn't know that now we are friends, "but I feel like I already know so much about you, things that I _like_ about you, that I know we could be the best of friends if you'd only trust me enough to try."

I look into her large brown eyes and my heart melts. If I have learned anything in the last day, it's that I'm glad not to have died without seeing those again. She finishes cleaning slushie off of herself.

'Why am I thinking that?' I ask myself, 'Why am I always thinking about her?'

"Okay, Quinn," she says, breaking up my thoughts, "I'll choose to believe that you are capable of being a good person and a true friend to me. If you cross me, however, know that once I am famous and I give interviews on what it was like to be bullied in high school, I am mentioning you, _by name_, and you will be humiliated for eternity!"

I can't help but laugh a little at her behavior. I guess that she really has calmed down on the dramatics since sophomore year.

"That sounds fair," I agree, "and to show my true interest in being your friend, I'd like to tell you something that nobody knows."

"What's that?" She's skeptical and I don't blame her.

"Quinn is my middle name. I go by it because when I was a kid, people used to make fun of me and they made up a nickname for me that made me hate my first name. Only my parents call me it now and sometimes even hearing it from them makes me feel awful," I confide, remembering this morning and how easily my father had been able to make it sound once again like an anathema.

"You know, Quinn, as someone who was once bullied yourself, you should know how much it hurts," she says.

"You're right," I say, "and I plan on doing more to help end bullying at this school."

"I'm glad to hear that, Quinn. If you need any assistance, I'd be glad to offer my services and support."

"I'd really like that," I say.

We stare at each other for just a moment too long and suddenly the situation becomes awkward.

"Quinn?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"What's your first name?"

She has to ask. For some reason, I can't find it in myself to deny her what she asks.

"Lucy. My name is Lucy."

"That means 'as of light'," she says, "It's fitting for you."

"Why is that?"

"It's beautiful, which should be obvious as to why it applies to you. It makes me think of the stars, too. I've always felt that you were meant to be among them."

I feel flattered and bold.

"I'm with the brightest one of all right now," I say and she grins.

As we exit the bathroom, I understand now this chance I've been given and what I am meant to do. Not entirely, no, but I understand a large part. I understand why I spent years tormenting and torturing her and why every single one of those freakishly detailed pornographic drawings was surrounded by hearts. I understand mocking her last name, Berry, and saying that if she had a normal name, perhaps like Fabray, she'd sound less annoying. I understand my need to be at her wedding to Finn and why I had to rush there. I understand why I couldn't ignore her texts. I understand why it killed me with every fiber of my being, thinking of her spending her life with him and why I agreed to be there anyway. I am in love with Rachel Berry. I understand now that in my time, she had been sent to save me, and she had time and time again. I understand that now, it's my turn to save her.

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><p><strong>AN: **Tell me your thoughts?

PS- From here on the updates are on a schedule. Chapter 4 is set for a little over a week from now. I don't have much written that far a head yet, so please don't ask when 5 will be ready, as I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know closer to the date.


	4. Chapter 4

**Glad You Came**

**By: ImaginaryPoet**

**A/N: **Still I am amazed at how great all of you have been! Thanks for your support. I know many of you have been very patiently waiting and I hope this won't disappoint.

**Don't sue me:** I don't own anything of any value, and certainly not Glee or its characters.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"Santana, Brittany, I need to ask you guys a favor," I say as I head to our usual table in homeroom.

"What is it?" Britt asks. Santana scowls a little but doesn't say anything and I remember how nice it could be as top dog.

"I need you two to stop bullying other students, especially Rachel Berry."

That was easy.

"No freaking way, Queen Delusional!" Santana snaps.

That was not as easy.

"Please you guys," I try to find a valid argument for why they should stop picking on Rachel and the other kids in school when I see Karofsky walk into the room. He blows a kiss to Kurt, who is sitting on the far side of the room and says,'

"Miss me, Homo?"

I cringe. If only he knew what I did; about where he would be in two years time.

"That is exactly the kind of thing we should work to end. People shouldn't be bullied for being different! People shouldn't be bullied for anything."

"I kind of agree," Brittany says, "We're all special little unicorns."

"Sure," I say as she nods enthusiastically.

"Why the hell should I stop putting down Manhands or any of the other freaks in this school?" Santana challenges.

"Can you imagine what it must be like to be different? Can you picture hating yourself because of who you are or who others perceive you to be? Can you imagine what it might be like for kids who come from bad homes to begin with? Pretend school is your only safe haven, but while there, everyone makes your life even more miserable. Taunting and assaulting other people doesn't make us better than them. It makes us worse. It makes us killers."

"How do you figure?" is her only argument. I know she can relate.

"Kids who are bullied are much more likely to commit suicide or bring a gun to school than kids who aren't. Add that to the kids who are bullied at home, too, Santana. Do you really want to be responsible for what could happen because of us?"

She doesn't say anything. I can tell in here eyes though, that she hears my message. I know that she knows what it's like to be afraid of being different, even if _this_ Santana doesn't yet.

"Yeah, okay, fine. We'll try to be nicer to everyone," she concedes.

"I kind of like Rachel anyway," Brittany says, "she always helps me when I get lost in the hall."

"She and I are kind of friends now," I admit. Santana's eyes bug out of her head.

"How did that happen?"

"My mom kicked my dad out this morning. I felt a little bit compassionate when I saw her running down the hall drenched in your little present."

"Quinn, I'm so sorry," Britt says. This is one subject in which she happens to be an expert.

"I'm happy about it actually, I know we'll be better once he's out of our lives."

"I'm sorry too," Santana adds.

"I don't think Quinn is the one you should be apologizing to, Santana," Brittany says as she nods to the door, where a newly changed Rachel enters.

As she does every morning, she scans the room for an empty chair at a table where people will tolerate her. I can see her mouth frown as she heads to Jacob Ben-Israel's and I open mine to call out to her, but somebody else beats me to it.

"HEY BERRY!" Santana shouts.

Rachel and I both have startled looks on our faces, but when I smile at her she walks over.

"What is it, Santana? Would you like to ruin this outfit too?"

"About that," she says with hesitation, "I'm sorry. I know what I did was shitty."

"Apology accepted, Santana," she says and I can't get over how quickly she's willing to forgive. After all of the things we've put her through, she's not broken.

"If that's all you wanted, I guess I should find my seat."

She turns to leave, but Santana, prompted by a look from Brittany, reaches out and grabs her arm,

"Why don't you sit with us?" she asks.

I can tell that she's hesitant and I don't blame her.

"That's a great idea," I hear myself saying, though I'm not sure how I can speak anymore.

I'm feeling flustered but in a good way. I feel panicked but a happy panic. I'm not sure what to call this emotion and I don't understand why I'm reacting this way to her now. Sure, sometimes I've felt this same indescribable feeling when she sings in Glee, or when she smiles at me during our bathroom moments, and that one time at the plastic surgeon's.

'Is this how it feels to fall in love?' I wonder, now knowing that I've never really known.

I don't have time to analyze any more, because I'm being pulled out of my thoughts by my best friend.

"Q," she asks again, "what do you think?"

"I'm sorry, I must have missed the question," I try and she rolls her eyes.

"Santana said it's be cool if the four of us go to Breadstix after school today," Brittany explains, "since we're going to be best friends with Rachel now," she adds on her own accord, as I see Rachel smiling and Santana masking a wince with a smirk.

"After auditions?" I ask and Brittana look at me questioningly as Rachel remembers what she had planned already for this evening.

"How could I have forgotten? This is what I've been waiting for and I almost let it go because I have been enticed by the Unholy Trinity!" Rachel says dramatically.

"Glee Club," I say as we all attempt to get over the show Rachel is putting on.

"What's Glee Club?" Brittany asks.

"The lamest thing ever," Santana blurts, before she realizes that she should have kept it in. Rachel looks a little embarrassed, but I speak up.

"Actually, no, it's not. It sounds really fun. You sing and dance and make life-long bonds of friendship and stuff," I say. Santana looks at me like she wants to laugh her ass off. I have to remember that back then, we weren't the people we had grown into, meaning that she wasn't about to bring down her rep with the Glee Club. I'm fairly sure the only reason she hasn't done anything horrible to Rachel so far is because of her fear of me, and I know she's only agreed to this nice routine because Santana of the past listens to what I say.

"Cool," Britt says, "we should join, Santana."

She groans but nods and Brittany reaches for her hand.

"You have a really nice voice anyway, I don't know why you only sing to your grandma and me," Britt says as she rubs Santana's hand and I think I see Santana blush for the first time ever.

'It's amazing what you miss the first time,' I think. I quickly remember the last three years I've had with Rachel and know that my words have never been more true.

"Fine, I'll do it," Santana says, "but what will Sylvester say when she finds out?"

She's right. Sylvester would have flipped if we had joined Glee on our own. The only reason we did in the past was because she told us to go spy. She knows about the future though, and I'm sure that she knows without the New Directions, the future might be too different. Maybe if I can convince her that Glee will help the Cheerios win Nationals again, she'll go for it.

"Don't worry about Coach," I say, "I'll take care of it."

Brittana nod and return to their own little world, and Rachel beams at me. My chest feels tight and my palms feel sweaty.

"I'm so excited, Quinn!" she says, "A chance at stardom and three new friends all in one day? My fathers will be pleased as punch!"

I smile and nod, much in the way I'm sure Finn does, but I can't berate myself right now because I can hardly breathe, let alone come up with anything to say. At last, the bell rings and Figgins comes on the PA. I'm ready to celebrate when I realize that homeroom has only just begun. I'm not sure that I can take 8 more hours of this torture _and then_ Glee auditions _and then _dinner with _**Rachel**_. I'm ready to cry, but I know I can't do anything about my situation. I look on he bright side though, 'At least I already know the answers to my Geometry test'.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Before I get one thousand reviews about how this was too short to fill your Faberry hearts with all the love you require (which I love, btw), I'd like to say that a) I wrote this chapter during midterms so it's a little short and b) CHAPTER 5 is going to be up TOMORROW (as I promised all of you lovelies last time)! 3 Now, please let me know your wonderful thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Glad You Came**

**By: ImaginaryPoet**

**A/N:** I just love you all so much. That's the note. Also, yes, Brittana = ALWAYS ON. I'd also very much like to thank all of you who have reviewed/alerted/posted recs for this fic on Tumblr! I've tried to respond to as many of you as possible, but unfortunately, I know I've missed several of you. Just so you don't feel unappreciated, I'd like to tell you all how much I value you and how absolutely inspired you all make me!

**Legally speaking:** I don't own Glee. If I did…you'd know.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"It's not even a big deal!" I yell.

"Of course it's a big deal!" Sylvester screams.

"I'm just trying to fix things!"

"You're also putting my best three Cheerios at the mercy of _William Schuester_! The man can't take control of his own freaking head, Q! I'm not going to let him take what's mine!"

"Wait just a minute," I demand, "we only ever joined his glee club because **YOU** told us to! Plus, you know it's helped you win at Nationals for the last two years!"

"This is true," she says, "I just want to make sure my Cheerios don't loose their street cred."

She's totally serious.

"We won't," I assure.

"Okay," she agrees and then her face softens, "How was your first repeat day?"

"It was…" I can't continue because I don't have any words to describe what today was.

"I know what you mean," she says, "I was able to put down Will and Irma with so much more ease than I was last time around."

"Coach," I warn, "don't you think it'd be a good idea to, I don't know, befriend them this time around?"

She scoffs at me, though I know she's thinking about it.

"How's your mom?" She changes the subject.

"Oh crap, I forgot all about her," I say, immediately feeling horrible.

"I figured you'd be too busy trying to get with mini-Streisand to remember that you broke up your parents' marriage months ahead of time."

"How did you know about-"

"I know about a lot of things, Q," she says, "it's not important how, just that I do. I know you, Polly Pocket, and the Sapphic Sisterhood are going on a little double date tonight after you commit your Judas act and sing for that walking Chia Pet. How about beforehand, you do old Judy a courtesy and call her up? Tell her that you understand it's hard for a single woman to find work, but Coach Sylvester just so happens to be in the market for a new assistant and she's got three years of practice on the Ohio State Cheer Team that says she'd do a fine job."

"Are you serious, Coach? That's ridiculously nice of you."

"I know it seems that way," she says, "but it's solely selfish. If my Head Cheerio has to move into the slums, it makes me look bad. I'm just providing for my future."

"Thank you, Coach," I say again today.

"Don't mention it, Q," she says, and for the second time ever (the first being last night, when we were in the future), I am leaving her office smiling.

* * *

><p>"Quinn Fabray?" Mr. Schuester says with a question mark as he reads my name off the audition list. Rachel has just finished singing "On My Own" and she's still beaming. We make eye contact and she gives me a thumbs up as I walk onto the stage.<p>

"Hi, Mr. Schuester, I'd like to audition for the New Directions," I say.

I see Santana jolt up in her seat and lean over to Brittany and the two of them laugh because Santana has just explained what that sounds like when you say it fast. Rachel sports a blush and turns away from the giggling pair, and she looks at me again. Once more, I feel all the breath I have leave my chest. I know now that the Quinn Fabray of the past was entirely made up, because I no longer have her faux confidence and superiority complex, especially when it comes to Rachel. I do know that my abilities, while not nearly up to par with Rachel's, are good enough to earn me a spot. It also helps that everyone who auditions gets to become a member of the club.

"That's great," he says, though his face is clearly wary of what could happen. I guess Coach wasn't joking when she said she brought him down good today.

I walk over to Brad and ask if he has the music to the song I want to sing and like the unspoken champion that he is for our club, he does. He informs the band of my choice while I return to center stage and smile unto Rachel. This song is for her, for Lucy, and even Brittany and Santana; it's for everyone who has let anyone else put them down.

The band starts and I see Rachel's smile grow because I know that she knows the song, just as I had hoped. If I had ever gotten anything from the Judy of the Past, it's music.

_You've got to get up every morning_

_With a smile on your face_

_And show the world_

_All the love in your heart_

_Then people gonna treat you better_

_You're gonna find, yes you will_

_That you're beautiful as you feel_

She blushes as I sing at her, before I move my gaze to Mr. Shue, who looks impressed.

Brittany and Santana are whispering back and forth and I hope that they hear the words as they bob back and forth to them.

_Waiting at the station with a workday wind blowing_

_I've got nothing to do but watch the passers-by_

_Mirrored in their faces I see frustration growing_

_And they don't see it showing, why do I?_

_You've got to get up every morning_

_With a smile on your face_

_And show the world_

_All the love in your heart_

_Then people gonna treat you better_

_You're gonna find, yes you will_

_That you're beautiful, you're beautiful_

_That you're beautiful as you feel_

_I have often asked my self the reason for the sadness_

_In a world where tears are just a lullaby_

_If there's any answer, maybe love can end the madness_

_Maybe not, oh, but we can only try_

_You've got to get up every morning_

_With a smile on your face_

_And show the world_

_All the love in your heart_

_Then people gonna treat you better_

_You're gonna find, yes you will_

_That you're beautiful, you're beautiful_

_You're beautiful as you feel_

I end with a smile and Mr. Shue, Rachel, and Brittany clap. Santana gives me an approving head nod and I am happy with that bit of acknowledgement.

"Wow, Quinn, what a surprise!" Mr. Shue says. I know the past and so I know that he'll try to make me the lead with Finn. I force the idea out of his head as quickly as I can.

"I'm nowhere near as good as Rachel," I say, "but it felt good singing that song."

"You two are both very talented," he says. Hopefully he gets the hint.

Brittany and Santana take the stage and I step out of the auditorium to call my mother.

* * *

><p>"You were on the Ohio State team for three years before you left school," I say to my disbelieving mother, "Coach says she remembers you from competitions and she needs someone of your talent to help get us to Nationals."<p>

She's gathering her coat and purse and keys as she rushes out of the house to meet with Coach. I'm glad I called her when I did because I know that had I not, she'd be on her way to the liquor store instead.

"Oh, Quinnie! I thought today might be the worst day of our lives, but everything is turning out for the best!"

"I'm really happy for us, Mom."

"I have to let you go," she says, "the house phone won't work in my car!"

"Be safe," I say, as memories of metal and glass wash over my face.

I press 'end' on my phone and let out a sigh of relief. This is really great. As I lean back against the lockers, I notice a tiny figure walking my way.

"Quinn!" she exclaims, "Did you know that Brittany and Santana was such talented singers as well?"

"I had a hunch," I smile, "are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I am," she says, "though I feel a little guilty."

"Why?" I ask.

"I know that Friday evenings are usually reserved for Chastity Club meetings," she says meekly.

"Oh," I recall, "actually, the Chastity Club isn't together anymore. As it turns out, almost everyone in it was sleeping around," I say.

"Oh!" she exclaims, "I am shocked! I vowed to never give myself to anyone until I am 25, on Broadway, and truly in love."

"And you won't," I respond unintentionally. She looks at me and I can't tell if she's appalled at or grateful for what I've said.

"What are you two weirdoes doing out here?" Santana calls, "I wants to get my Breadstix on!"

"Okay, yeah, let's go," I hurry, "I'll drive."

"Britts and I call backseat!"

"Santana, no," Brittany says seriously and the later looks crushed.

"But…why?"

"I have to sit in the front," Brittany says, "Rachel is too small for the airbag."

"You're sweet looking after Tinkerbelle like that," Santana says.

"I'm actually fully capable of sitting in the front seat," Rachel explains, "my dads would never allow me to travel in anyone else's vehicle were that not the case. I appreciate your concern though, Brittany, as only a true friend would consider my safety above their own seating preferences."

'Oh my gosh,' I think, 'she even makes the dumbest thing I've ever heard sound wonderful and practical.'

"You two can sit in the back, that's fine, I don't care, let's go!"

"Geeze, Q, you can calm down. Even I'm not _that_ excited for the breadstix."

"I'll race you," Brittany says and the two of them are off to the parking lot.

"Sorry for whatever that was," I say as Rachel and I walk down the hall.

"No apologizes necessary, Quinn," she assures, "I actually find it very heartwarming that Brittany is making such a valiant effort in being a friend to me."

"You're a great person, Rach," I say, "I'm glad we finally get to appreciate that instead of tearing you down for being who you are."

She smiles but does not speak. I can tell she's holding on to something, so I stop in front of the double doors and ask,

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she says, "it's stupid."

"It can't be stupid if you're the one thinking it," I tell her and she softens.

"I've wanted to be friends with you for as long as I can remember," she says, "but…I'm still so afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" I ask.

"Is this a trick?"

"No," I say firmly, "I promise on my life that this isn't anything but what it appears to be. You deserve spotlights and applause. You deserve friends and people who love you for more than just your voice. It's incredible yes, but it's not all that you are. You are beyond incredible."

"Quinn," she says in barely a whisper as she slides her body against the door so that she's crouching just inches above the floor, "I feel something right now that I don't know how to describe."

"You don't have the words to describe something? That's not possible," I joke.

I see that she's genuinely shocked by her own lack of knowledge, so I try my best to help her out.

"Want to try to tell me anyway?" I ask.

"Do you promise not to be angry with me if I do? Do you promise that what you said about being my friend holds true?"

"Absolutely," I say in a way that she can't mistake.

"I feel like," she begins, but stops.

"Go on, Rach, it's aright."

"You're the only person who has ever called me that before you know."

"Do you not like it?" I ask, not really being sure.

"Coming from you, I adore it," she says, "which is why I'm afraid to say."

"I don't ever want for you to be afraid around me or of me again," I tell her.

"I feel like…if you were a boy…" she says.

"Yes?" I gulp.

"Then right now, I'd want to kiss you," she whispers again.

As if God, Himself, were trying to tell me something, my phone begins playing it's ridiculous ringtone and Rachel jumps to her feet.

"What?" I scream at the caller.

"Quinn, can you please come outside now?" Brittany asks, "It's kind of cold and your car is locked."

"Sure, Britt we're coming out right now," I say.

"I bet you are," Santana mumbles in the background. I hang up.

I send a soft smile to Rachel, who still looks frazzled.

"If you'd rather just drop me at home, I'd understand, Quinn," she says.

"That's nonsense," I say, "I want to hang out with you tonight."

She smiles her Rachel smile and I open the door, motioning for her to go first.

"Took you long enough!" Santana yells across the practically empty parking lot.

"Coach needed me to call my mom about something and I forgot until just then," I say and Rachel smiles gratefully.

Brittany and Santana climb into the back and Santana gives me a look.

"You ready to go?" I ask Rachel, holding her door open for her.

"Absolutely," she responds, much in the way I had earlier. She looks me in the eyes and holds her gaze there for what feels like eternity, but is really just a half second.

"Let's get this party started!" she yells and fist pumps after quickly looking away.

Brittany throws out a 'YEAH!' and Santana chuckles as I make my way around the car.

"To Breadstix!" Santana says.

Rachel turns on the radio and the three of them start singing along to some pop song. I shift into drive and can't help but smile. I wonder if this is how it was supposed to be all along.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Do you have feelings? Please share them with me. I'd also like to apologize because the website hasn't been emailing me updates. I'm not ignoring you, I just haven't been getting your messages!  
>PS- The song Quinn sang was "Beautiful" by Carole King.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Glad You Came**

**ImaginaryPoet**

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the hiatus; I've been busy with school. Please forgive me. Thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter! All of them were really positive and blush-worthy. You are truly the best! Also, ! Who saw THAT coming? The finale was pretty pointless, but at least we saw some possibly lovely happenings.

**Depression:** I don't own these people, but if I did, it'd all be smiles and rainbows and unicorns.

**Chapter 6**

* * *

><p>It has been exactly one week since I woke up in a younger body. I've often thought about what life might be like had things gone differently for me, but never did I imagine it would end up like this.<p>

Friday night was spent with Brittany, Santana and Rachel at Breadstix. It felt kind of Twilight Zone-y, but I tried my best to make it seem like nothing was wrong, though my heart was in my throat the entire time. As soon as we got there and requested a table for four, things got awkward. Brittany and Santana sat on one side of the booth and whispered to each other, their giggles breaking the silence. I had forgotten how easily the two of them could fall into their own little world. Before, I thought it to be annoying and naïve, but now I think I recognize it for what it is: special. I couldn't help but wonder if that's in store for me too. Rachel and I were on the other side in complete silence. This lasted for at least 5 minutes before she finally spoke.

"Quinn?"

"Uh," I froze, "yes?"

"I'm a little bit embarrassed," she said.

"Rachel, there's nothing to be embarrassed about! I wanted, if my phone hadn't," I scrambled for words before her face broke out into a wide smile and she put her hand on my arm and completely broke my brain.

"No, Quinn! I was referring to the menu. I've never been here before and I was wondering if you've ever tried their vegan options."

"Oh, that," I said. I remembered her favorite order from the few times in the future that we've been, always in a group, always so far apart.

"You really like the eggplant parmesan," I replied.

"What?" she asked as I realized what I had just said.

"I, no, I misspoke. I'm sorry. What I meant to say was, 'Do you like eggplant parmesan?' Because I have had it before and it's good," I cover.

"That sounds perfect," she replied, still smiling and still holding my arm.

After, the waitress came to get our orders and Brittany and Santana rejoined the world. The four of us talked throughout dinner as I silently hoped that Rachel hadn't thought I was a total loser and that even if she did, she'd understand what I was saying before she corrected me.  
>While we were out, my mom was meeting with Coach Sylvester about the terms of her new job as assistant coach. She shared with me that one of the conditions is that she may not have alcohol or pills in her system. For the first time, I think I could tell that she was really happy as she flushed all of her Xanax and Prozac.<p>

On Saturday, Mom decided that it would be a good idea to wake up and have breakfast together before practice. I was surprised to see her in my room at 5 AM, but I went along with it in hope that maybe we could start on building the relationship the both of us secretly hope to have.

After that, the days all seemed to blend together. Coach still couldn't figure out how to get back to real time, though I didn't mind as much as she did. I spent a lot more time with Rachel at school and in Glee and with Santana on my side for bully prevention; no slushies had been thrown in 6 days. Figgins even put up a dry erase board that said as much, and then a hockey player threw a slushie at it. He was mad, but said that since it wasn't another student, he'd accept it as progress.

As far as progress in other fields though, I'm not having such good luck. I have been spending extra time with Rachel, but we haven't been anything more than friendly and we haven't gotten a moment alone together since Friday.

* * *

><p>I walk into glee with a smiling face. I think I believe that some things are fate, because the entire club from the future has joined, except for the people we've yet to meet. I think it's kind of weird that I already know about Sam and Blaine and the girl that I think might be Brittany and Santana's daughter from the future (I know it's all too possible now), but I'm not worried that things won't work out.<p>

My smile falters as I walk up to Rachel, who is speaking animatedly with Finn. That's the same boy, I recall, that this Quinn hasn't dumped yet.

"Wow, Rachel," he says, "I didn't know that so many old ladies made such great music."

"They are not simply 'old ladies', Finn! They are LEGENDS! Patti, Barbara, Julie; these are timeless gems!"

"Uh," he says before he sees me, "Oh, hey Quinn, did you know that John Grisham wrote 'I Have Rickets'?"

"George Gershwin, Finn! And it's 'I've Got Rhythm'!" She barks. I can see Santana laughing. I know she's never liked Finn all that much but she's really enjoying it.

"I don't really care about that stuff," he says.

"To each their own," I say as I see Rachel start to puff up like an angry cat.

"Quinn, please tell me right now what your favorite song from a musical is? Finn insists that you don't like musicals, but I know I could never befriend someone without Broadway in their heart."

"I'm not sure I can pick one," I say, "I like 'Memory' from Cats and really almost everything from The Phantom of the Opera. For me it's about the lyrics."

"Oh, Quinn! Excellent start," she says, "but you must let me introduce you to some other musicals. Please?"

"Sure, Rach," I say.

"Okay guys!" Mr. Shue says as he strolls in to the room. He's wearing a stained vest with a plastic broach on it that says, 'World's Best Teacher!' and Santana and I make eye contact and grin.

"Our first number will be a duet between the two students I hope will be our captains," he says, "Finn, why don't you come up here?"

"Why, Mr. Shue?" Finn asks.

"Because you're the male captain," Brittany says, "Duh."

"…And Rachel?" Shue asks and Rachel beams.

"It's my honor!" she says.

"It figures," Kurt mumbles and Mercedes nods in agreement.

Mr. Shue gives them the music and Brad the Piano Guy starts to play. Rachel hits her notes perfectly and I can feel my eyes zero in on her. When it's Finn's turn he has to stop because he has to ask how to say one of the words. This happens three of four times and we all groan, while Mr. Shue beams at Finn, sort of the way Rachel looks at Finn in our time, or the way that I look at bacon. They finish the song, which was not their best, and everyone claps.

"Mr. Shue," Kurt begins, "could we maybe try a male lead who can, I don't know, read? I know he's good looking and all but that was still painful to watch."  
>Mercedes nods in agreement and I chuckle. After the club, he calls out to me. Of course everyone stays.<p>

"Hey, can we talk?"

"Sure," I say, hoping to cut him loose.

"You've been really weird lately, ever since you became friends with that Rachel girl. What did she do to you?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"You blew off Chastity Club. Puck and I had to lead. TOGETHER."

"First of all, most of the Chastity Club blew Puck," I say and Puck yells, 'That's what's up!' and high-fives Matt.

"Secondly," I say, "you can't tell me who my friends are. You weren't even there for me when my parents broke up," it's low, but I hope it'll work the way I want it to, "How is that supposed to win you boyfriend points?"

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asks.

"Yes, Finn," I say, "I just can't do this with you anymore."

Brittany, Santana, and Rachel make their way over to me as Finn kicks a chair before picking it up, carrying it to the corner, and sitting in it with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. It is to no surprise that Mr. Shue goes over.

"Finally," Santana says bluntly.

"My daddy always tells me: A man who does not value Broadway does not value women," Rachel says, "though if he values Broadway _too_ much…"

I can't help but laugh.

"It's okay you guys, to be honest, I haven't been that into it recently."

"I hear that," Santana whispers to Brittany, loud enough for me to hear.

"Be nice," Britt says, "besides, Quinn, you're like super smart. Finn reads worse than me. That's not a good match."

My friends, now joined by Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, and Tina agree out loud.

"He has weird nipples," Santana says.

"He threw me into a dumpster once," Artie adds.

"Hey! Finn has a lot of great qualities," Mr. Shue creepily interjects from outside of the crowd.

"Yeah!" He yells, standing to defend himself,

"One time, I drank an entire jar of the stuff that olives come in!"

He never did get better at winning arguments.

"You are a good guy, Finn," I say, "you're just not the one for me. I'm sorry I allowed everyone to disrespect you," I know this will satisfy him.

He nods and leaves the room, Mr. Shue close behind.

"T-t-that was creepy," Tina says. Awkward silence follows.

"So," I say, "I was just going to see if Rachel, Santana, and Brittany wanted to hang out at my house tonight. Would you guys be interested in coming?"

They look at me in horror.

"I can assure you that Quinn's motives are good!" Rachel says.

"What would "hanging out" entail?" Kurt asks, doing air quotes.

I laugh and smile, "I was thinking we could watch a few movies, maybe eat some pizza, see where the night goes?"

"At at your house?" Tina asks.

"Yes?" I question, "Is that a problem?"

"I'm about to get real with you, Barbie," Mercedes says, "You aren't nice. Why would you invite us over to watch movies and eat pizza? That's obviously a trap. Especially since the entire Unholy Trinity is involved."

"I've changed," I say, met with unbelieving glances.

"A tiger doesn't change his stripes overnight," Kurt says skeptically, "are you planning on locking us in some kind of dungeon?"

"What? No!" I reply, "Why would I do that?"

"I'm not about to roll into some basement death trap with spikes in the floors," Artie says.

I'm at a loss.

"I've had enough of this. Quinn's basement is really cool and the carpets are really soft," Brittany counters, "we have sleepovers down there all the time. If you guys don't want to hang, that's fine, Quinn was just being what she is: nice."

She leaves the room muttering in disgust of their distrust. It's times like these when I am reminded of why Brittany is one of my greatest friends, and that she can hold her own when needed.

Santana goes after Brittany, but turns to me and says, "I'll be there and I'm bringing the movies. I don't want to watch any more of those awful Christmas cartoons you have," then she's gone.

"It was a Christmas party!" I defend, but she's gone.

"I'm sure it was lovely," a voice next to me says, and I remember that Rachel has been silently listening the whole time. This is a surprise to me.

"I know many of you are skeptical, and you have every right to be," she says, "Take it from me. Up until a week ago, I thought that Quinn was just another cheerleading bully, but she proved me wrong. She has turned a new leaf. I trust her," she says looking at me, "and if I can do that, the rest of you should be able to do the same."

They all mumble apologies to me before leaving Rachel and me alone in the choir room.

"Thanks for sticking up for me," I offer.

"It's really the least I could do, Quinn," she answers.

Suddenly, it seems we're both incredibly shy.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replies.

"What you said the other day," I start, "did you mean it?"

She instantly blushes, "Please don't try to analyze it. I just seem to have mixed some signals. I'm certainly not harboring some massive secret crush on you."

"That wasn't what I was getting at," I smile, "I just wanted you to know that…"

She looks at me hopefully and it's my turn to blush.

"Girls," Mr. Shue calls as he reenters the classroom, "you should take your conversation elsewhere."

Rachel shakes her head and grabs my hand, then leads me out into the hallway. She looks at me expectantly and her phone lets her know that she has a new text.

"My dad is waiting out front," she says, still holding my hand, "but I'll be at your house at 7 if that's okay?"

"That's perfect," I say and silence follows.

She lets go of my hand.

"Then I guess I'll see you then," she says as she turns away from me.

"It would be alright, you know," I hear myself say.

"I…what?" She asks as she turns to face me again.

"If you had," I respond and her eyes widen.

"Quinn, like I said, it was just-"

"…Because I wanted to too," I interrupt.

Shocked silence now surrounds us. Just like the actress she is, she composes herself and smiles.

"I'll see you tonight," and she leaves.

I'm not sure of what I've just done, but for some reason, I'm much too busy waiting for 7 to care.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** OH HEY! Does this chapter earn me forgiveness for the hiatus? Is it long enough for your liking? Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Once again, thank you so much for the reviews! I'll spare you the details about why I've been away, because they're really not interesting. Anyway, I thought I'd let you know that I have a Tumblr, in case you didn't already. Please feel free to send your love/questions to my ask box! It's the same as my author name here, so it should be easy to find; please let me know if it's not. I'll leave you to it…  
><strong>Legal:<strong> Not my show, not my characters, all of my wildest hopes and dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>Glad You Came<strong>

**Chapter 7**

I glance at the clock for the hundredth time since getting home and see that I still have an hour until Rachel and the rest of the group shows up.

"What's got you so nervous?" My mom asks with a grin, as she comes through the door with a veggie plate.

She speaks with such ease and what looks to be actual, genuine _joy_ that I need to hold on to this moment for just a little longer. She looks at me with one eyebrow still raised and I feel at home here with her. It hurts a little bit to know that my real life isn't this. In my real life, she's still best friends with a bottle and I'm more alone than I've ever been.

"This is so weird," I say out loud. I sit on the couch.

"It is," she agrees. She smoothes her Cheerio issue tracksuit and then sits next to me.

"I like it though," I add, "I've missed spending time with you."

She looks at the ground and sighs. I'm biting my lower lip now, hoping that I haven't crossed some sort of line.  
>"I've missed you, too," she finally says as if she's just let go of a breath she's held for an eternity.<p>

I notice what she's said and how she's said it. I haven't been myself in a long time, I know, but I didn't expect for her to know as much. It never seemed like she cared that much in the first place. I'm less worried now that I've upset her, because I think she understands. I think she has knowledge of the silence that most don't dare try and achieve. Holding your breath for two years can do that to you. Immediately, I think of how long she had been married to my father and I feel happy that she can finally breathe. I think of how nice it must be to exhale.

"It's Rachel," I say practically out of nowhere.

She looks at me again, eyebrow to her hairline. If I weren't freaking out inside, I might have to laugh at how much of her I see in myself.

"Rachel, your friend from the Glee Club?"

"Yeah," I answer with my eyes focused intently on the floor.

"Is everything okay between you two?"

I sigh and exhale. From what I can tell, we're better off now than we've ever been in our own time. Guilt over how I've treated her mixes with the fear and anticipation.

"I don't know what to do," I say, "I've never…"

I can't tell her that I don't know how to act around Rachel because I've never had feelings for a girl before. I decide on a close enough white lie that'll have to get me through for right now.

"I've never had a real friend before, not since-"

"Since you've become Quinn?" She cuts in, knowing.

"Yeah," I say with regret.

* * *

><p>Bitchleeder Quinn Fabray did not have friends. She had minions. She had brown-nosers. Truly, nobody really cared what happened to her, so long as they ended up on top as a result. If it meant doing what she said, so be it. If it meant destroying her, then it was what it was. The Unholy Trinity formed out of necessity; the fact that they could stand each other in a social setting was merely coincidental. I would be a fool if I thought that for one minute anyone genuinely wanted to be friends with that person when even I couldn't stand to look into the mirror some days. And yet, there was someone who always had.<p>

It wasn't that way before. Lucy had such wonderful friends. Sure, they were mostly characters from books that children her age has never cared to read, but oh she had loved them, and she liked to think that they would have loved her too. Lucy had been content to travel through Narnia. She adored Wonderland. And when she wasn't off in her fantasy world, she had the best of friends.

People hadn't made fun of her when they were young. The concept was foreign, only to be discovered with age and pressures from everyone else to be things that don't end up mattering. To the other kindergarteners, Lucy was just a shy girl with glasses who loved to read. It wasn't strange that on that first day of school, when they all had to share facts about themselves, she found a kindred spirit in her table-buddy. He liked the Power Rangers, too, and he could already read, just like her. They would be best friends because that was all that mattered to either of them. Her father had even approved, since he had not yet made his fortune in his new company and he had yet to obsess over appearances and perceptions from people he'd never meet again. In fact, lots of things had been better then.

When he had moved away, to Lima, the summer after 4th grade, things started to feel different for her. The other girls started to tease her. Without her ally on their side, the boys would laugh and take her books, to impress the girls mostly. She had missed him every day since then.

Over time, she had changed too much of herself to fit in. When she finally had the chance to start fresh before high school, she didn't care that she was a whole new person on the outside, with a new name, she still felt like Lucy. So when she saw him that first day of freshman year, looking the same as ever and knowing that he couldn't possibly know her anymore, her heart hurt for what she had lost. She's never told a soul, but the day that Lauren had posted her picture all over school, he approached her.

She had been crying in the bleachers for a while. The field was empty and she knew that nobody else would come to bother her there. When she heard footsteps, she looked up and saw him standing there, offering her a smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better," she said, wiping her eyes, "everything's great."

"You could have fooled me," he said as he sat next to her.

There was only silence as she tried to straighten up.

"Do you still like Lewis?" he asked.

"What?" She was surprised.

"I've known since the first day of school freshman year," he shrugs, "I just wasn't sure that you wanted me to."

Before she could think, her arms were around his neck in a hug and she was crying harder than she knew she could.

"I've missed you, Lucy," he said, returning the hug.

"I've missed you, too, Mike," she said, "so much."

She's been too embarrassed to speak to him about it again, even though she'd love to be his friend once again. Every day, he gives her a smile and a nod in glee, and doesn't say a word to anyone about who they used to be. She wonders if it hurts him as much as it hurts her.

* * *

><p>I have to shake the memory off because it's all too much. I can't even think of those memories in the first person, because they don't feel like me at all.<p>

I know that Brittany tries the best she can to be a friend, though I also know that Santana will always be her priority. For her part, Santana is a fairly good friend. I know that she might not always seem like it to the outside world, but I'll never forget the time she spent with me the summer after I gave Beth away and the compassion she saves only for those she really loves. As much as they mean to me, I know that I've never quite fit in to their dynamic. Being in love with someone makes them more important than someone you love. I don't hold a grudge, especially now that I've seen the extent of their relationship, even if the versions I'm stuck with aren't ready to admit it. And now that I might have a chance to have something similar, I understand. Even when my head is full of doubts and panic, I know that Rachel is too special to let go. I have to laugh a little to myself when I think it over, because I know if Rachel knew about my past, she'd want me to call Mike, too. She's always wanted what's best for me even if it hurt her. Again, I can't even believe who I've been.

She puts her hand on mine, "You deserve to have a real friend, Sweetie. I know that this is new, our situation, but I don't want to keep living the way we've been living. I want us to be able to talk to each other and to trust each other. I really want you to be happy. If being friends with Rachel makes you that way, I'd say it's welcome."

"Thanks, Mom," I say recalling all of the times we used to talk because someone had bullied me or I'd read something new. Russell might have been happy when Lucy disappeared, but Judy had lost a daughter, a friend. I almost feel guilty for never noticing before.

"That's my job, Lu-Quinnie," she corrects.

"It's okay for you to call me Lucy, Mom," I say, "it is what you named me."

"I thought you hated being Lucy?"

"I used to think so, but now I think I had it all wrong," I explain, "I hated the way Lucy felt, but I've never been a very big fan of Quinn."

She smiles, "What about the new Quinn you seem to be becoming?"

"I think we'll both like her a lot," I smile back.

"I think so, too," she says as she stands to leave, "I think the room's all set up for tonight, but if you need anything else just let me know."

"Mom, there is something."

"What's that?"

"Do you still have the Chang's number?"

She smiles again from halfway up the stairs.

I think that for once in a long time, both of us are getting it right.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this latest entry! As always, opinions and comments are welcome. Yes, the next chapter will include one Miss Rachel B. Berry.<strong>


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